


Tear Myself Away (From You)

by edenaaa (orphan_account)



Series: All Resistance Wearing Thin [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Art, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/edenaaa
Summary: “You – you return my feelings…” Keith couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Shiro’s thumb began caressing his face, traveling from his cheek to the corner of his mouth and scarcely touching his bottom lip. “And you needed a song to admit it.”“I guess we’re not as good at recognizing our feelings as I want us to seem,” Shiro murmured, the words exchanged between the almost nonexistent space between them too intimate.“You’d better kiss me or else I’ll be seriously going mad.”Idea inspired after@theprojectava'spiece ofart.





	Tear Myself Away (From You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mizu-no-Akira](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mizu-no-Akira).



> OK, so, excuse me for diving into this thing. It was supposed to be one chapter, about 2k words, but it turned out to be part of a series! 
> 
> I thank you so much, @theprojectava, for inspiring me to write this through your wonderful art!
> 
> The songs you should **definitely** listen to while reading are: Wake Up - Eden and Kiss Me Before I Fucking Lose My Mind - Charlie Puth.
> 
> This version is _unedited_ because I'm too damn tired to do so. I'll revise it later.
> 
> Enjoy!

“It’s good to finally have you with us, Shiro!” Allura’s buoyant voice demolished Keith’s thoughts, too loud and scattered around his messy mind to be ignored for more than a second. It explained why the other’s presence was the only antidote to bringing them to silence.

“I hope I’m not _that_ late,” he sheepishly muttered, putting on a very specific smile, too honest and unique and so much like him Keith wished he could tame the unruly beatings of his excited heart. “Matt and I have been working on a song for a while and it’s finally whole.”

He slipped into the place easily, slightly bumping into Keith because of the constricted space. Allura was facing them onto the other side of the table painted in hues of yellow, where one almost empty coffee cup was lying alongside an apple juice half full.

A knot of emotion planted itself in Keith’s throat and constricted his words in the moment when Shiro’s left side pressed into him, exuding warmth even through the material of his clothes. It wasn’t even a millimeter of space between them, yet the inability of their skins touching made the distance feel endless.

He took a mouthful of liquid to get rid of the nerves, but they only seemed to know how to multiply when his eyes fixed on Shiro’s left hand, reddened from the drastic change in temperature – it was considerably warmer inside the café than outside under the mercy of coldness and unyielding wind. His fingers itched to touch Shiro’s prosthetic right hand and be met with glacial metal.

He’d never been more grateful for being able to restrain his urges.

“Before we begin talking, do you want to order something?” Allura queried, mostly referring to Shiro, since Keith barely touched his drink while they’d been sitting together.

The black-haired man hummed, turning to Keith immediately after and fixing him with his obsidian eyes.

“How’s the juice?” An expectant smile took control over his unnaturally kissable lips and wrapped them in a foliage of amusement.

“Not your favorite,” Keith answered with a newly acquired bravado, smirking in return. 

Shiro didn’t seem to care about his words, though, if he took into consideration the furrowing of his eyebrows and how the artificial light painted his skin in little flaws – like the scar sitting under his left eye, almost imperceptible to others, but like an old lyric of a song to Keith. Just like his behavior and just like his smile.

Keith didn’t let any more seconds pass before pushing the green colored glass onto the table towards him and Shiro gripped it between his metallic fingers. He took a sip from the exact spot Keith’s lips had been glued earlier.

Was it oxygen humans needed to survive? Keith was beginning to question the correctness of that. He was pretty sure the sight in front of him would be sufficient.

“Not bad,” Shiro concluded, licking his lips. Dizziness began holding onto Keith’s body for dear life and blood rushed to his cheeks and took the first place on the list named ‘Signs of Embarrassment’, followed shortly after by the sweat settling on the surface of his palms. “I think I’ll go get one, but after we talk. I’ve kept you waiting long enough.”

Keith wanted to refuse the glass when it was returned to him, to tell Shiro he could drink it until the last drop if he wanted to because he didn’t enjoy it that much anyway. Would that sound inappropriate? No, inappropriate would be to stretch his benumbed fingers and _touch_ , to lean to the right and _kiss_.

“All right then,” Allura said, smiling brighter than the snow covering the city in an innocently -colored layer. “I’ve wanted you both present to discuss your next appearance.”

Both men nodded, waiting for her to continue. The atmosphere inside added to the casualty with which she was talking, coziness combined with music leaking in the form of sounds in the air, the smell of coffee and croissants heavy and inviting. 

Before he could cut the mysterious paths of his imagination, Keith thought about how things would be if Allura were called to return to the studio and he’d be left with Shiro, _alone_ , drifting through private moments and lame jokes.

“Would you like to follow the new pattern?” She asked with hope glistening in her bluish irises and diffusing to the pair.

“Uh,” Shiro said and glanced at Keith, waiting for his approval. “I guess it would be better.” An ounce of uncertainty was still holding onto his voice.

Keith groaned, even though one deep part of him realized the truth – the proposal was the best choice, but his insecurities were pounding against his chest louder than ever. He dropped his head on the table, ignoring the smell of lemons invading his nose.

“Keith,” Shiro began, putting his steady hand onto the other’s back, slowly moving it along the material of his red sweater. “If you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to sing.”

 _Indeed_ , the thought wasn’t convenient to him, but did he want to make Shiro proud! The truth was he enjoyed playing only the instruments for years, until Matt messed things up, along with his annoyingly stupid sister and her friend. How could the best tech support members not resolve the problem with Shiro’s microphone? 

It was how the two of them found themselves sitting in front of a crowd, on stage, with the vocalist unable to perform. Keith knew the song, had the guitar in his hands, so he began singing. What else could he do, considering the circumstances? Those people had come to listen to the band, not waste their time waiting because of technological problems.

Keith remembered the crowd’s cheers had been nothing compared to the encouraging smile Shiro created just for him. It was such a precious sight, he wanted to rip it from his memory and create a picture he’d have to occasion to see whenever he pleased. Minds forgot details over time, beginning with the smallest ones, but he wanted it immortal.

“People enjoyed it so much, Keith.” Allura’s voice had a persuasive tone, one which did nothing to lessen the sea of indecision he was diving into.

“No, he won’t do it if he doesn’t want to.” Shiro’s words were certain, protective, like they always were, anchoring him to a shore of security, steadiness, understanding. 

He felt like a child again.

“I’ll do it,” he responded, in honor of all those times when Shiro was with him, caring, listening, and providing emotional support in crisis of affection.

“Are you sure? Don’t feel pressured to accept it.”

The hand moving on his back reached his shoulder and squeezed, as if the touch alone was powerful enough to penetrate the cotton and meet skin. Perhaps it could.

“Yeah. It’s – it’s fine. I like singing, just. There’re only a few songs, right?”

Shiro still didn’t seem convinced by his determination, so Keith moved a little towards him – if possible – entering a zone where his perfume launched pine scents in the immediate space, combined with something familiar and so steady Keith never wanted to leave again.  
“You’ll be there with me. I’m not afraid.”

The words evading his starving lips were probably partly untrue, given that his presence would be both a medicine and a poison. Despite that, Shiro was pleased by whatever he caught sight of in Keith’s eyes and retracted more to his side.

Keith tried not to mourn the closure.

“Now that it’s settled,” Allura intervened, placing a piece of paper on the table and in front of the two. “Let’s choose a date!”

§ 

15th December, Friday, was haunting Keith when his eyes met the date briefly. They had established the event would take place in the evening, in front of a medium sized public, but nothing more, such as the songs they would perform.

Keith concluded it wasn’t that bad. Their moment wouldn’t last more than half an hour. Besides, doing something that felt as essential as breathing to them didn’t know the notion of time.

So, the problem wasn’t one of those listed above. No. It was the _theme_.

“Damn it,” Keith murmured to himself, nervousness crashing into him with lightning speed and changing his course completely. Devastated, he accepted the vacant place one of the chairs in the hall was offering.

“What happened?” Lance curiously asked, even though Keith could tell he contemplated whether he should or should not do it. With his arms crossed over his chest and an amusing blue beanie on his head, he was regarding the other man.

“Nothing good,” Keith responded in return, mirroring his stance. They seemed upset about different matters. If he studied Lance closer, he almost seemed nervous, on the verge of turning himself in under the pressure of his nerves. 

“It’s not as if we’re friends or something, but the constipated look on your face is telling me that whatever you read on that paper, it’d taken you aback.” Lance commented while trying to sound uninterested in the subject.

“Good job, Lance. You should consider taking a psychology course,” Keith sarcastically muttered, turning his head away from those prying blue eyes.

“I actually attended a course in my sophomore year-” he began saying, but stopped midway and gasped loudly. “Wait! You were making fun of me, weren’t you?”

He punched Keith in the shoulder lightly, the gesture meant to make him regret his words, but it only sufficed in amusing him further.

“Do you call that a punch?” He snickered, but got nothing more in response than a loud breathing.

Keith’s satisfactory smirk was grabbed from his face brutally once he saw Lance getting up and going to inspect the paper he’d been studying earlier. His whole body tensed, torn between immobilizing Lance before he had the chance to read it or ignoring him completely.

“Performances programmed in December… The following pairs will have the occasion to concert live…Respecting the themes listed below…” Lance was reading loudly from moment to moment and it only made the anxiousness inside Keith boil quicker and quicker, threatening to spill and stain his consciousness.

Even covering his ears in hopes of disconnecting from the sound didn’t work.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset…” 

It was better that way, with Lance unable to realize why Keith felt like that annoying thing called faith suddenly collapsed on top of him when he saw the theme. If there were anybody out there, watching him, they certainly enjoyed torturing him.

“Seriously?” Lance continued, making Keith jump in the uncomfortable seat as if it burnt him. “The theme is ‘The Night of Unsaid Feelings’. Wait a minute!” He smirked triumphantly and the sight left a bitter trail down Keith’s tongue. “Is that the problem? That you’ll sing on the stage about ‘unsaid’ love and the person at the end of the line will sit next to you! Oh my, I’d give anything to see you.”

“You’re a terrible person, did you know that?” Keith said and closed his eyes, already feeling his cheeks borrow the color of his jacket. “Is it that obvious?” The last part was more whispered than said out loud, scattered with uncertainty.

“Man, is that a rhetoric question?” Lance’s smile faded when Keith withdraw into himself more. “Look. If it makes you feel better, I couldn’t believe it when Pidge told me, but then I saw the way you gaze at him. It’s pure, gross love, you know? The worst kind.”  
Keith didn’t say anything more, not even when Lance was obviously waiting for more. The other singer sighed, returned to his seat and opened his mouth to mess up the situation further.

The sound of Shiro’s voice didn’t let him, though. Keith didn’t know which situation he preferred. He was stuck between two stones and neither of them looked surmountable. 

“Lance, Kuro wants to talk to you about a song. He said something about a collaboration,” Shiro announced, smiling when he saw Lance’s face change drastically from surprised to embarrassed and then nervous. He shared a minimal part of his worries, since he knew how his brother could be sometimes.

“Uh, yeah…I’ll just, you know, go,” he babbled as he turned towards the door, but before entering, he told Shiro something. “Oh, go take him an ice cream or something. He’s drowning in pity.”

Keith rolled his eyes at him and got a wink in response. Shiro’s expression was replaced by an unnamable one when he saw the exchange.

“What’s wrong? Did he upset you?” He gently asked, occupying Lance’s previous seat. It would have been normal if his hand hadn’t come in contact with his knee over the material of his black jeans. Even through it, he could feel heat enveloping the area being touched, the slight curving of Shiro’s fingers, wrapping tighter and squeezing. 

Keith had looked somewhere in the leftovers for even a small amount of voice, but it was hiding from him. All what escaped his mouth were incoherent sounds, the failed tries of his words.

“He’s Lance, of course he did. I would’ve been worried if he didn’t,” he finally murmured and the crystalline laughter Shiro offered him was better than any instrument resounding in a room nearby. 

“Don’t be mean. He’s doing what he can. Besides, I’m curious how singing with Kuro will go. They’re both so stubborn,” Shiro affirmed, that fond smile still plastered on his face. He retracted his hand, offering it moments later to Keith. “Let’s go, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Kuro was ready to kill me because we didn’t establish our songs for the event.”

Keith gladly accepted the hold, relieved to be pulled out of a sea of thoughts.

§

“All right, let me get this straight,” Hunk incredulously said. “You found the songs to perform. Everything was fine until Shiro came up with the idea of adding two solo moments at the end. He said he found his and you’re too curious and afraid to ask what he chose. You’re also unsure about what your choice should be.”

Keith approved, angry with both the pathetic thing called life and the forbidden love interest named Shiro. Even the amount of sweetness he was swallowing tasted bitter.

“I hate to say that you’re in a complicated situation…” Hunk acknowledged, not without compassion. 

“I know, right? How am I going to sing about ‘unsaid feelings’ when Shiro’s going to be next to me? Is there a way to ditch this?” Keith questioned, overwhelmed by the sentiments flooding his mind all at once. He didn’t even want to name more than half of them, hoping they would remain unnoticed that way.

Running from your feelings was always better than recognizing you had them, until they caught up with you, trapping your mind in a place where the wall staying before your eyes was too high to be climbed and too thick to be demolished. 

“Oh, no, no, you’re not getting out of this one!” Pidge threatened, sipping the strawberry milkshake slowly. “Do you even know how hard it was to get you singing at all, you annoying man?” 

“What?” Keith’s rage was unmotivated, but it didn’t matter in that moment of raw emotion. “It was because of you Shiro’s microphone suddenly didn’t ‘work’, right?” 

“Someone had to do it. We offered you months to do it on your own, but you always found excuses.” Pidge shamelessly admitted, more interested in the news about nanotechnology than the actual problem. “Besides, Shiro agreed to it.”

“Shiro was on your side? I feel betrayed.” He didn’t know where the drama was coming from, but it was there and it demanded justice.

“That’s what Lance would say,” Pidge commented, showing something to Hunk to which the man nodded, beginning to take notes.

That was exactly how Lance would react, it was true. Keith slumped into his seat, the curiosity still eating him alive. He had less than seven days to decide how badly he’d stomp onto his and Shiro’s friendship.

§ 

No one could warn Keith about the energy he’d feel pumping through his veins in the night of the event, of the nerves consuming him like a flame and leaving behind ashes of what had once been. Perhaps it was why the night ensued as quickly as the blink of an eye, with lots of preparations, fussiness and rehearsals.

“What we’re trying to highlight is, you should never hide your feelings from someone you care about – love, friendship, they are based on trust and truth.” Shiro’s voice echoed in the dimly-lit club, the majority of the ones present listening intently. Keith’s fingers were numb on the guitar he was holding, gaze pointed forward. 

The moment he’d been avoiding had come in force and knocked him even though he thought he had a solid support under him. He was scattered into the wind, basing on those remains stocked inside his mind for moments like those to keep him floating. He felt amiss, hurt by the claws of his feelings which sank into his skin mercilessly and let him squirm in hopes of escaping.

His stomach was being devoured by butterflies that left nothing but an empty sentiment which diffused higher and higher towards his throat.

“So, tonight, strip of them and free yourselves. I guarantee you’ll feel lighter than ever. We may not realize the emotional burden we’re carrying until we get rid of it. We’re strong, but we’re also humans.”

Although what Shiro told was the right thing, Keith couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming over the lyrics he’d have to sing. The words were crashing into each other, losing sense and he knew he had to close his eyes and just hope the boulder in his throat would let him sing. 

“Tonight, I chose to interpret Wake up by Eden,” he announced, voice warm, leaving a honey trace in Keith’s dry mouth. Shiro positioned his guitar better, starting with a few notes and finally began singing. “ _'Cos we've been driving so long, I can't remember how we got here…Or how we survived so long out trying to run from our pride. 'Till you set fire to my atmosphere._ ”

Keith let the words settle, listened intently to how good Shiro’s voice molded with them and gave them meaning. He saw people doing the same, some of them even murmuring the lyrics, others hearing them for the first time, but staying quiet to create the best atmosphere.

“ _This is more than just a phase, love, shooting stars all break up and even though it seems like half the world away…_ ” 

Keith didn’t muster the courage to look at Shiro, to see his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his lips hovering over the microphone, big hands holding the guitar, the lyrics finding a soul who appreciated them and gave them life.

“ _Maybe I could fly you out this place someday, chasing dreams like I'm on Novocaine, screaming through your airwaves, looking back I almost thought I heard you say…” He made a pause, charged with energy and anticipation. “Stay, you're not gonna leave me…This place is right where you need to be and why your words gotta mean so much to them and they mean nothing to me?_ ”

Keith’s heart started beating in rhythm with the song, aching from transforming into something new. Wings stung the poor, fragile thing, wanting to make it fly out of his chest and feel alive. A tremor erupting from his bones dominated him.

“ _So stay, you're not what you're hearing, 'cause I've been watching you changing… You’re sleepwalking, just keep talking. Maybe you can talk your way out of this deep end. No B-plan in your system, just tell me what you're thinking…_ "

__

Keith was falling apart and only the thought of Shiro being there to catch him set him on fire.

__

“ _You’re so much better than that, you’re so much better than that, you’re so much better than that…Looking back I almost thought I heard you say, you're so much better than that…_ ” 

__

The song ended with Shiro’s voice prolonging, notes fading until they were replaced by the guitar. A round of applause followed shortly after, along with cheers. Only then, did Keith look at Shiro. His cheeks were visibly darker, face covered in sweat and breathing ragged. 

__

If he waited much longer, he’d get up and kiss Shiro before he restrained himself. So, he cleared his throat and used the last grams of his power to sing his part.

__

“ _I should have told you how I really feel a little in advance, then I would’ve had some time to go and work it out…_ ” Surprisingly, his voice wasn’t wavering and his fingers moved on their own accord over the chords. He was doing it, finally. He was admitting his feelings towards his best friend, feelings which have torn him apart from within with their intensity.

__

It was, perhaps, a reckless move to reveal his love for Shiro through a song, but it was the theme, right?

__

“ _For the last three years I just hid it so well, hoping that you’d figure it out because I never could tell it straight to your face…I’m done playing these games. I can’t believe what I’m about to say…_ ”

__

Letting himself lose in the song was better than actually reaching the deepest meanings of it. He was singing because that was what he liked, what he did for a living and what kept him going day by day. He was singing because singing meant expressing, improving, learning.

__

“ _No, no more waiting, pacing 'round the bar hoping that you might walk in…I’m done playing these games. I can’t believe what I’m about to say, ‘cause I would rather die than feeling this inside…”_

____

Keith couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard a gasp coming from his right sight, where the subject of his attention was staying. If he willed his eyelids to part, he might see for himself, but it wouldn’t be happening. He felt weak, like exposing an important part of him manifested as a flaw. Holding onto the darkness, the sound of his voice, the fleeting pulse in his ears kept him on the course. 

____

“ _No, I would rather die than just tell you goodbye with my love left behind. Kiss me before I fucking lose my mind…_ ”

____

Keith didn’t want it to end, to face Shiro, so he stayed still under the round of applause deafening the beating of his heart.

____

__

____

§ 

____

__  
__  
  
  


____

The frosty air hit him and brought the much needed reality along with it. It was a strong crash and he wasn’t sure if any part of him had been left undamaged. Moments of longing – seconds, minutes, hours, months, even years – began piling on and on wishing to their suffering. They wanted solace, found only in the arms of one man.

____

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice, more vulnerable than he’d ever heard it, beat the muffled sounds coming from inside. 

____

Keith was relieved to find out he wasn’t the only one trembling, since Shiro was mimicking his action much stronger. He was like a burning object placed on ice. It began melting and melting until there wouldn’t be anything left behind to sustain the weight.

____

“Has it really been three years?” His words were as frail as the snowflakes ending up in Keith’s extended palms.

____

“Maybe more, I don’t even know,” he decided to admit. Was there any gain in keeping it a secret anymore? The truth would either solidify what they had or destroy it completely. “I- I spent a lot of hours wondering myself if it were a phase.” It turned out to not be ephemeral, always blossoming into something more complex.

____

Shiro was unusually quiet, staying still as a statue centimeters away from Keith. In one swift motion, he put both hands on Keith’s hips, effortlessly spinning him so they were facing each other. Confused and embarrassed, Keith tried escaping from the hold, but it only tightened around him. He was captive in the meshes of Shiro, held still and forced to stare into a galaxy of darkness.

____

“You’re not the only one nurturing feelings, Keith,” he confessed and Keith ceased breathing. The words were enough to take the place of the oxygen his lungs needed. “I have feelings for you, too. I was too afraid you’d vanish if I ever made them known, so I stayed quiet.”

____

“You – you return my feelings…” Keith couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Shiro’s thumb began caressing his face, traveling from his cheek to the corner of his mouth and scarcely touching his bottom lip. “And you needed a song to admit it.”

____

He humorlessly smiled, biting his lips to restrain his inflammable nerves. Shiro noticed it, moving his head considerably closer so his forehead was glued to Keith’s, his chapped lips not daring to go further than where his thumb stayed before.

____

“I guess we’re not as good at recognizing our feelings as I want us to seem,” Shiro murmured, the words exchanged between the almost nonexistent space between them too intimate.

____

“You’d better kiss me or else I’ll be seriously going mad,” Keith offered, especially bathing in the comfort their current position was exuding in him. 

____

“As you wish.” Shiro’s words faltered.

____

The anticipation was corroding them both, persistent and growing. What came though, didn’t compare with the imagination. Keith had his eyes closed, lips parted when Shiro kissed him. He was awkwardly trying to place his hands somewhere on his body, so when he saw that Shiro didn’t intend to deepen the touch of their lips, he placed them on both sides of the man’s face and did it himself. Shiro was reluctant to take what wasn’t his, always waiting for Keith to grant him access, even though he didn’t need to. Keith would give him anything.

____

He did all things at once: permitted Shiro’s tongue to combine with his, breathed in his pine scent, laced with something so him it made him dizzy and got even closer to him so their chests were pressed against each other.

____

Keith was pliant and Shiro was warm despite the low temperature and the sounds they made from the contact, the little moans escaping them were scattered into the wind.

____

“Don’t you ever let me go,” Keith shakily said after they parted, embracing Shiro as much as he could, reveling in how the man’s protective arms wrapped around him.

____

“I won’t,” Shiro promised, kissing Keith’s unruly hair and inhaling. “We should probably go back,” he suggested after a while. “I don’t want you to freeze.”

____

“You liar,” Keith jokingly answered, punching him in the chest and not being surprised by the muscles there. “You know Pidge and Hunk will come looking after us. They’ll probably think we froze while making out or something.”

____

“Probably,” Shiro confessed while laughing, his hand never leaving Keith’s back when he led them inside.

____

**Author's Note:**

> Why is this part of a series? Because Kuro and Lance deserve their chapter, too and I have a thing for Jealous!Shiro, so here it comes.
> 
> Feedback is heavily appreciated!!


End file.
